The Great Contradiction

If you are a normal reader of this site, then perhaps this disclaimer will serve its ultimate goal of preparing you for a slightly different entry then what you are accustomed to. The usual objective of the day for these entries is to offer a sense of perspective on culture and society that integrates mainstream thinking and solution-based rationale.

However, today is not that day.

You see, we all should be masters of action through introspection. In other words, improving the collective standards of our world by beginning with ourselves. If the journey of 1,000 miles begins with a single step, then allow me to get my running start.

Don't adjust the sound on your monitors. Hopefully if my HTML game is up, then the song you are listening to is being performed by the greatest rapper you've probably never heard of, Verbel Kint, out of Camden, NJ. Why have the intro to his LP "Probable Cause" when most of things that I have written on here would lead many to believe I despise rap? One is I don't. The second is he's my brother from another mother. Third, cause he's the only dude out here seriously invested in his craft. At any rate, Welcome to Section I of my Double Consciousness.

Me and Johnny Cash have more in common than just our initials. Like most Black men, I too am walking the line day to day. I am conscious or am I a thug fronting behind a shirt and tie? Do I think rap is destroying our culture through its depiction of violence, sex, drugs and crime, or do I relate because I grew up in a neighborhood run amok with the same? The common denominator is that I still listen, hating it and loving it.

I freely and fully practice a religion that in man's infinite ignorance, was interpreted, warped and contorted to enslave and confuse generations of people who believe in God's infinite wisdom and mercy. I know this, I study this, and I still need the word on Sunday mornings.

I worked for four years towards a degree at a school that I cursed as a student, and am currently employed at said university; loving it unconditionally, and convincing anyone who will listen that I'm so glad I went to Morgan State, and you will be too.

I always thought I would marry a quiet girl from the south, probably a school teacher. Had to be 5' 5" or taller, darker than me. My fiancee' is from Baltimore. She's short, she's my complexion, she's working on her doctorate in psychology, takes none of my stuff anytime, and I couldn't see myself with anyone else for the rest of my life.

Yep, I hope to join a long line of famous, loved/hated figures in pop culture. Kanye West, Muhammad Ali, Tupac Shakur, the list goes on. Lives lived in direct contradiction to the principles they put out. And yet, all these people are or were satisfied with the lives they lead or led. They don't live by the mantra, "walk the walk, talk the talk," they live by "I'll talk the talk, but I'm f*cked up just like you are. I'm just more willing to admit it."

And that's all we are, Great Monuments of Contradictions. We walk away when we want to stay. We keep quiet when should shout. We whisper "yes" when we want to scream "no." We go when we should stop, and cry when we should laugh. Life becomes easiest when we accept the great labyrinths of our minds and enjoy the way through to the end.

I love watching "The Boondocks," and hate that most of the subject matter is true.

I love football and basketball, but baseball is my favorite sport.

I always go home tired, knowing that there are plenty of brothers and sisters out there who work harder than I do, making less than I do, and have more to lose.

I want to be the one to carry the race into a better day, but I can't remember to carry the trash out sometimes.

I feel shame in my heart when I see addicts on corners. I walk by more times then I help, and feel bad that I assume that they will do the wrong thing with whatever I give them.

I am writing this when I should be working.

I am afraid to fail, so often times I don't try.

I want to be famous, but don't want to be a celebrity.

I am finished, but I feel like I haven't even started.

Odds on Beating the House

If there is one thing that I learned during my recent trip to Las Vegas, its that the house always wins. Always.

Up hundreds, down to nothing. Vegas makes the odds and breaks you off. At the opposite end of Sin City's cold shoulder is a hand that is waiting to give you cold cards and dice at any given moment.

With the release of a New York Times article yesterday on the deepening plight of the black male, the same pattern is holding true for this demographic's very survival. For many young men, life in the inner cities or off of the rural dusty roads is the model of the proverbial crap shoot, watched closely by the snake eyes of partisan politics and corruption on all sides.

Television and movies depict the oasis of the Nevada desert as a place where made men go to have fun. 'Viva Las Vegas' is the familiar refrain of a song celebrating the vibrant energy that pulsates through the city. Millions of dollars are pumped into that local economy in the name of recreation and excess.

At the same time, more than 2000 miles and three times zones away, sons and brothers are made men years before they are ready. The song of police and ambulance sirens plays its inharmonius melody, lamenting the drugs and violence that envelops cities and suburbs in a paralyzing haze. Millions of dollars for programs established to aid residents go unnoticed in the false sense of self-preservation and success.

Hundreds of thousands of people visit Vegas to see her sights and shows. Her attractions are world-famous; each turn of the head on Las Vegas Boulevard earns a look at a sign reading, "Best Slots," "Best 10 p.m. Show," "Best Buffet in Vegas." These same numbers of black men are cycled in, out, and back into the American prison systems. They are lured there looking back on the promises of "Best Rims," "Best Way to Get Momma Out of Here," "Best Way to Make Something of Myself."

The greatest similarity between the Sin City in the desert and the Sin Cities many of us know personally, is that there are choices to be made that can change the lives of those who are visiting one, or trying to escape the other. Most people choose to continue to sit at that card table in the lavish Caesar's Palace or Bellagio, knowing that they will not continue to win. The same is true for those who refuse education and the power it instills in those who hold it, or those who refuse to be fathers and leaders in their communities, knowing that the community will suffer because of it. The greatest similarity between the two entities is the House.

You see, the House knows that the cards will eventually go in its favor, and it bets against the temperance of the players at that table. The House doesn't mind losing, because it knows you will return to the table to give it right back, with interest.

Public education, the prison system, health care, affirmative action; they are all are designed for those disciplined individuals who are inspired to do more. A college education, a vocation, these are the cards that must be played to turn the House against itself. The House laughs at those who remark that it is the system that holds them down, and the few chips that those people have to play are quickly taken away in desperation, fear and self-loathing.

Whether or not we all agree on whose fault it is that some black men make bad choices will be an eternal debate. But the truth lies in the fact that in Vegas you can't see the other cards; there's always a chance. In life, we hold all of the cards, and it is us who determines what life deals us.

Why beat the house, when you can burn the motherf*cker down.